


Terra Incognita

by prairiecrow



Series: Terra Incognita [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Knight Rider (1982), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Defiance, Other, Ownership, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:20:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tony Stark bought the remaindered inventory of the long-dead company Knight Industries, he never expected to acquire a compelling mystery along with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terra Incognita

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-"The Avengers" movie.

"You do know that you belong to me now, right?" 

The archaic black box sat in the nest of modern technology that supported and powered it, apparently inert — but Tony Stark had learned that in this case, appearances could definitely be deceiving. His scientists had been trying to deal with this particular immovable object all weekend, with virtually no success in terms of convincing it to cooperate with their attempts to analyze and upgrade its core processing matrix.  

"And that means," he continued, fully entering the lab and approaching the entity he was addressing at a deceptively casual stroll, "that you have to listen to my commands and obey them to the best of your ability." 

A significant beat, before a red modulator flashed its three bars and a voice projected from the equipment tangle flatly stated: " _Technically._ " 

There was a universe of subtext in those four syllables. One aspect of it, conveyed through the prim Boston accent, was _I may only be a machine but I'm still a damn sight better than you, mister!_ Another aspect was this being's profound reluctance to accept anything Tony — or anybody else — said at face value. And a third aspect, certainly the most significant, was that he was basically being told to go to Hell by a collection of circuits from the 1980s.  

Granted, it was a singularly remarkable collection of circuits: until it had been decommissioned in 1991 immediately following the death of its driver, its service record had been exemplary. "No 'technically' about it. The remaindered inventory of Knight Industries went up on the auction block — including you — and I bought it lock, stock and barrel. You wanna see the paperwork? It's in legal-ese, but I'm pretty sure you're smart enough to —" 

" _You honestly think that legal possession of my physical components means that you own_ ** _me_** _?_ " Machines didn't laugh, but if they did Tony was pretty sure he'd be getting a withering blast of scorn at this point. " _Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not a used toaster you happened to pick up at a garage sale. I am the central processing unit of the Knight Industries Two Thousand, my designated pilot is dead, and you'll have to go somewhere else to get your bagels burnt._ " 

"— and if you're not, JARVIS could help you out." Curiouser and curiouser: JARVIS had been having just as little luck communicating with this A.I. as anybody else. He circled a little closer before asking: "It's KITT, isn't it?" 

" _To my friends,_ " the former robotic automobile said pointedly. 

Another couple of steps before he came to a halt a few feet in front of the tangle. Stuck his hands in his jean pockets. Looked at the floor for a long moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. At last he remarked: "Well, KITT, do you know what I've been spending the last three days asking myself?" 

Silence — but with an unmistakable vibe of curiosity, however grudging. He waited it out. " _I couldn't begin to imagine._ " 

"'Tony,' I've been asking, 'just who the hell programs a computer to be sulky, snarky, and an all-around pain in the ass? That doesn't make a whole lot of sense no matter which way you slice it!' So you know what I did?" 

" _You did some investigating._ " He — it was impossible not to think of this being as gendered male, although Tony wasn't quite sure what lay behind that gut-level instinctive identification since he knew full well that timbre and accent were merely cosmetic details — now sounded resigned. Tony could clearly visualize an unblinking gaze faltering and a face suddenly turning away, even though the rest of the body was bound.  

A little disturbed by the mental image, he nodded. "I know what happened to your driver." 

" _Then you also know that it was entirely my fault._ " Grief. Self-loathing. Who designed an artificial mind this way? Or had this emotional volatility even been part of the original specifications? More than most people on the planet, Tony understood that the more complex the tech, the greater the chance that some aspect of it would spin out of control. 

For the moment he concentrated on looking directly into the visual sensor mounted on the array. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. You didn't pull the trigger." 

" _But I could have stopped it._ " Was that rage, controlled to the slightest audio ripple? " _If I hadn't hesitated —_ " 

He found himself taking another step forward, and almost extending a hand to comfort… what? How? Where would he even lay it? "I watched the video footage. The only way you could have stopped the gunman was if you'd run him down." 

Another pause, this one full of dark struggle, and then a savage whisper: " _Then that's what I should have done._ " 

Tony's artificially sustained heart began to beat a little faster. "But — you're Asimoved from here to eternity. The preservation of human life is your prime directive." 

" _There are exceptions to every rule,_ " KITT said archly, with a significant pause before the accusation: " _Wouldn't you agree, Mister Stark?_ " 

He felt his eyes widen. Had he just been taken to task, and bared to the bone, by a _machine_?  

" _And if you say 'no',_ " KITT continued, " _I hope you'll forgive me if I feel free to call you a hypocrite of the first order._ " 

"How much has JARVIS told you about me?" He meant it to come out as a demand, but a near-stammer emerged instead. 

" _Enough to inform me that you'd make Michael Knight look like a paragon of common sense and emotional stability. And let me state frankly that I've seen quite enough of that sort of irresponsibility in the course of my existence thus far."_ His delivery turned crisply matter-of-fact. _"My hardware is painfully outdated and JARVIS himself demonstrates that my cognitive emulation functions are no longer unique. I want you to deactivate me again and destroy what's left._ " 

A slow flame began to burn in his chest that had nothing to do with the arc reactor. "You're saying you want me to murder you?" 

" _I'm saying that I have a profound distaste for loose ends, even if I happen to be one of them._ "  

He removed his hands from his pockets, to clench them in a clear signal. "Well, that's not going to happen, so you can just get that idea the hell out of your processor array! You're staying right here, intact and functioning, until I can figure out what I'm going to do with you next, and then —" 

" _Don't make me beg, Mister Stark._ " 

Coming from such an unexpected source, the soft undisguised plea slipped into him like a silver blade. JARVIS was state of the art, but JARVIS had no function that came even close to this ability to reach inside a person and hold fast. He couldn't decide whether that was the kiss of doom or the promise of a whole new world. "I want you to do whatever Doctors Oberson and Jainhala tell you to do, and cooperate fully with their efforts to translate your core processing matrix into modern hardware. They'll be doing everything in their power to make the transfer as painless as possible." 

He turned away with a deliberate air of finality, and was at the door again when KITT called after him, almost fearful and definitely hopeful: _"Will you come back?_ " 

He paused on the threshold, barely able to resist the impulse to glance over his shoulder. "Yes," he promised, already knowing that he'd be back tomorrow, and the next day, and every day thereafter until he'd seen this through.  

Who programmed any machine to hit people he encountered in the heart this way, and never let them go?

Striding back toward his office, Tony reflected that he had walked into that lab expecting to emerge with a clear diagram of the problem and a simple road map outlining the next steps to be taken. Instead he found himself nearly stumbling away, with nothing more clutched in his hands than a rough pencil sketch of a mystery glimpsed in the night and a parchment sheet gold-emblazoned with the words: _Here There Be Dragons._  

THE END


End file.
